


Doll Parts

by flesh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cousin Incest, Dubious Consent, F/M, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-01
Updated: 2007-03-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flesh/pseuds/flesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellatrix and Narcissa take it upon themselves to demonstrate to Sirius how decent young ladies behave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doll Parts

"That was a disgraceful display earlier," Bellatrix says.

"I don't think your mother will ever recover from the shame," Narcissa adds. 

"It's a shame you can't be more gentlemanly," Bellatrix says, as she adjusts the frilly garter about Sirius's thigh, snapping the elastic hard enough to redden his skin. 

"Or more ladylike," Narcissa agrees. She finishes lacing the corset which strains about Sirius's middle. It is designed for slender creatures like his vicious cousins, not athletic boys who play Quidditch and get into fights, but she has tugged the ribbons hard to strap him into it. It's difficult to breathe but that could as easily be because Bellatrix is rising from her knees and Narcissa is smiling like Daddy's just offered to take her shopping. 

Sirius is a Gryffindor and makes a habit of being suicidally unafraid. The mere suggestion that he would be afraid of Bella and Cissy would have been too ridiculous to even be offensive. Cissy is all blonde ringlets and pale pink smiles. And Bella is strange, yes, but she moves like she doesn't have legs, like she's a little thing gliding about atop the bell of her skirts. 

The afternoon started so well: a teaparty descending into broken china and terrified house-elves, all thanks to Sirius. And now somehow, he's propped up on a chair in a locked room, wearing lingerie. 

The corset is antique rose and the bones of it rub his ribs; it creaks with his every breath. The knickers that they wriggled him in to, laughing and exclaiming at his half-hard cock all the while, cling to him like a moist second skin. His cock is still hard and pressing wetly against the fabric. Narcissa rolled stockings up his legs earlier, so deftly her French manicured nails didn't so much as snag the gauze. And Bellatrix's fingers are moving through his thick, black hair, as she weaves brightly coloured ribbons into bows about the locks. 

He doesn't know why he hasn't hurt them, or got away at the very least. He doesn't know why he's let them do this to him. He thinks maybe it's something to do with the pale green tea Narcissa brewed earlier that Bellatrix fed him drops of from her fingertips. He remembers suckling on her fingertips and feeling a great sense of heavy contentment stealing over him. 

And now he doesn't think he could lift so much as a hand to slap their beautiful, wicked faces. All he knows is the delicate brush of lace and silk, and how achingly hard he is. 

Narcissa takes a step back and claps her hands together.

"Isn't he lovely?" she asks her sister.

Bellatrix smiles a slow smile like old red wine. 

"Exquisite. Such a charming girl." She looks at Narcissa and touches her face lightly. "Would you like to play first? You did behave so beautifully at tea, despite Sirius's best efforts to ruin everything."

"Oh may I?" Narcissa coos. "Oh thank you, Bella, thank you!"

At Bellatrix's gracious nod, she hurries forward, pulling her skirt up in a rustle of pastel satin. She's pretty and pale all over, Sirius notes absently, and wearing the same kind of underwear that he is. He can see how wet she is, a dampness on the thin material of her knickers. 

There's something child-like in her excitement as she crawls onto his lap, as if he's Santa and she's been _exceptionally_ good. And there's something child-like in her careless cruelty as she drags his cock free from the tightness of the panties they've put him in. She scrapes her nails down his thighs as she yanks his legs apart in order to better straddle him, and her face lights up at his pained intake of breath.

The weight of her body is light and hot as she sinks down onto him, her fingertips press into the stiff length of his cock as she guides it into her. Sirius lets out a long moan as she wraps herself about him. The corset's tight about him and his limbs are too heavy to move, but he wants to touch her so badly. She slides on his cock so easily and he can see the slight bounce of her small breasts with each thrust, threatening to jump out of the bodice of her dress. 

But he can't touch her. Her cheeks are flushed pink and look so soft; he thinks he'd like to kiss her. And the snap of her body as she fucks herself on his cock makes it unbearable to even think of looking away. He wants to touch her. 

"Please," he whimpers and Narcissa laughs in his face. He can smell the sweetness of fondant on her breath.

"Poor baby," Bellatrix murmurs, moving closer. 

With the patience of a nurse, she lifts his arms for him and drapes them around Narcissa's shoulders. Then she moves out of sight and Sirius tries to follow her but can't turn his head that far. She's still close though. He can feel her fingertips sliding down his chest, over his quivering heartbeat to the candy pink lace trim of his corset. She straightens it for him, as if concerned that fucking will make him less pretty, his outfit less perfect. She circles the copper disc of his nipple and the sensation, combined with the increasingly fervent jerk of Narcissa's hips, makes him too light-headed to even protest that he's a boy when Bella kisses his cheek and tells him how pretty he is. 

He hears Narcissa come, a high-pitched moan that catches in the middle like tearing silk. But most of all, he feels her cunt clench about his cock, as hard and greedy as she is, and he comes in a bone-breaking pulse. 

She sags against him, the sunshine-gold of her hair brushing against his lips and his skin prickles even in the wake of climax. His arms fall away from her and she is helped from his lap by Bellatrix, who leaves a cold emptiness down Sirius's spine when she moves away from him. 

Narcissa drops onto the chaise longue, her skirt still up about her middle and her fingers idly slipping into her cunt. She smiles dazedly up at Bellatrix who kisses her on the temple.

"Very nicely done, Cissy," she tells her. "I think Sirius liked that very much."

"Mmm," Cissy says. "Your turn."

Sirius can hear so much in that. _It's Bella's turn_. And the late afternoon sun seems to slip behind clouds and it's almost night when Bellatrix turns to him. No more sunshine from Narcissa, only Bella's starlight now. She is tall and dark, built differently to her sister. Narcissa is petite while Bellatrix is statuesque. Sirius wants her too but his blood is running cold in his veins. 

He watches helplessly as she sinks to her knees between his spread legs. She fusses over his garter again and then smoothes the satiny tops of his stockings, her fingertips skating over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. She adjusts the waistband of his knickers, making sure his softening cock is still poking neatly over the scrap of translucent pink silk. 

Then she looks up at him and smiles. 

"Such a good girl, when you want to be. All pliant and pretty like this. Don't you like being pretty?"

She bends her head and he braces for the sharpness of little white teeth, but receives only a soft, open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his cock. She curls her fingers about him, stroking the length of him and rubbing the pad of her thumb over the moist head.

"Give him a moment to catch his breath, Bella," Narcissa chides playfully from the chaise longue. "He's only just come."

Bellatrix flashes Sirius a secret smile, telling him she knows, _she knows_ , then glances over her shoulder at Narcissa.

"He's sixteen. Boys of that age just come and come and come. They can't help themselves."

He wants to deny it, to be more than a doll that will perform the required action if the right button is pressed, but his cock _is_ hard and sliding between her wet lips. Then her hot, slippery tongue is moving over him. He feels like she's swallowing him up, like she'll devour him and then dab the corner of her small red mouth with her napkin. It's a good feeling. 

She never stops touching him: the rub of her palms over his stockings creating a delicious friction, her thumbs gliding down the crease of his thighs. He watches her head bob up and down, listening to the obscene sounds of her mouth. Somehow he finds the strength to lift his hands and they hover over her for a moment, like a faith healer at work. Then he buries his fingers into the silken knot of her hair and fucks her mouth as hard as his drugged body can, pushing into the hot wetness. 

He drives himself into her and as if in response, her claws come out. He feels her nails drag down his legs and a ladder blossom down the length of his stockings. He's so deep inside her mouth her face is buried in his lap. If he shifts his knee just like that, he can graze the curve of her breast. 

Her finger slides beneath his garter and twists, and his hips arch upwards as he comes for the second time. His head rolls back, his eyes staring glassily at the ceiling rose, while his cock twitches and spurts, then slips free from Bellatrix's mouth. He registers her moving, rising up over him like the fall of a shadow, and briefly her lips move against his. Then he feels a ribbon tugged from his hair.

He sees the vague shape of Bellatrix as she turns to her sister and throws the ribbon to her.

"I tasted you on him," she says. 

And then they're laughing again and Sirius doesn't think they're good girls at all.

END


End file.
